


Bound

by deliciously_devient



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, BDSM AU, Body Changes, Body Horror, Dubious Consent, Forced Bonding, M/M, cross dressing, fuck-or-die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3656193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciously_devient/pseuds/deliciously_devient
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve was okay being Unpresented; it left a whole lot more wiggle room, generally let him circumvent power displays with an unaffected smirk, and kept everyone around him guessing.<br/>Until his body finally caught up with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off a roleplay me and onebilliondollarman did, and there's some body horror, a little bit of changes and stuff so if it squicks you please don't read.

Steve had always known what he liked, even without presenting; pain got his engine revving, and he'd always been small enough that, even without pheromones, he could be taken as a sub and no one would question him. He'd met other Unpresented, and while most of them were entirely uninterested in sex, Steve had a healthy one, even if he couldn't indulge in some of the heavier things without serious injury to himself.   
After the serum, though, he could take a whole lot more punishment, but there was a war going on and he didn't get much time to explore that part of himself. Then he woke up after seventy years in the ice, and everything was different, and he ached for his home, for the people he loved, for everything he had lost.  
But then the Chitauri came, and after that there was another war, one fought on the edges, and then Project Insight and Bucky was alive. It had been about a year after that mess, and Steve finally felt peaceful, with his best friend recuperating by his side, and his new friends all living at the rebuilt Stark (Avengers) Tower. Sure, there was the occasional villain, and posturing between Clint and Thor and Tony happened regularly, but these were his friends; his family.  
It was a normal Tuesday afternoon when he felt it; he'd woken up feeling strangely warm, but it was summer, so he disregarded the feeling and went about his day. It wasn't until he was in the common room, hours later, sketching and letting the sounds of Sam, Clint, Thor and Tony play Mario Party, that the extra warmth made him uncomfortable.  
"Jarvis, turn up the AC, I'm dying," he said, fanning himself with one hand. His cheeks were flushed bright red, and he felt itchy, like he was about to come out of his skin.  
"It is currently sixty five degrees inside the common room, Captain," Jarvis said, and his tone was slightly worried. "However, your internal temperature is five degrees above the norm."  
"You okay, Cap?" Clint asked worriedly, brow furrowed.  
Steve opened his mouth to reply that he was fine, just warm, when it hit him. Pain like he'd never felt before bloomed in his abdomen, and he let out a scream as he doubled over. He dropped to his knees, whimpering softly, curling around himself as the pain lanced through him. A sweet, almost sickly scent filled the room, and he realized it was him, dripping in submissive hormones, calling out to all available dominants that he was ready to be taken.  
I'm going through my first drop, he thought vaguely, and he felt rather than heard the rushing around him, smelled several scents that were divine, and one that made him reach out and clutch, nose twitching, baring his throat. That was the scent of the dom who needed to take him, he thought, and he shuffled close to it on his knees, hearing growling and snarling, as well as words that were shouted, but all he cared about was the scent of the dom in front of him, and he bared his throat and belly, hoping that would entice them.   
Some part of his brain recognized Tony's face, horror and desire clashing on his face, as he knelt down level with Steve, cupping his face down.  
"Hey, shh, shh, it's okay, don't worry, we're gonna help you," Tony murmured, soothingly, and Steve sank into his grip, vaguely recognizing that the pained, pathetic whimpers and whines filling the room were coming from him. He pushed closer into Tony's space, and he screamed again as a sharp, sickening pain radiated out from his stomach and into his hips. Tony's hands were cool and soothing as they raced over him, unable to decide on a place to land, worry and lust clear on his features.  
"Tony, come on, let him go, we need to get him on a stretcher," Clint said softly, and Steve whined, clutching harder at Tony. He was in pain and Tony smelled good, Tony smelled like his, and he didn't want to be taken away.  
A loud, low, feral growl erupted from Tony's chest as reaching hands tried to pull Steve away and onto the stretcher. Steve hid his face in Tony's chest, trying desperately to make himself smaller, breathing in Tony's scent and rubbing against him, rubbing his scent off and trying to convey to Clint that Tony was his.   
"We're gonna have to sedate them both, they've gone feral at this point," someone said, and Steve didn't know who, couldn't tell, didn't care.  
Moments later, however, he was decending quickly into unconsciousness, clutching at Tony's shirt.  
***  
When Tony woke, his head felt groggy, his joints ached, and his cock was hard as a rock.   
He blinked, Steve's scent still burning in his nostrils, not helping him will away his erection at all. He wasn't restrained, at least, which was always a plus, and he was able to sit up. He was in the hospital bay of the tower, and Clint was sitting next to him, looking grim, perched on his seat in a way that meant he was worried.   
"Steve?" Tony asked, and his tongue felt heavy, his brain struggling to form words when all he could think was Steve, mine, mine, Steve.  
"He's stable, for now," Clint said, and Tony tensed; stable wasn't okay, and Steve not being okay was not acceptable. "But...it's bad. We think the serum is making it worse."  
"Fuck," Tony said, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to reign in his mind, trying to get some kind of coherency back. "I thought..I thought he was Unpresented."  
"We all did," Clint said, twirling an arrowhead between his fingers; he really must be worried. "But it turns out he was just to sickly to present before the serum, and after he was too stressed. Right now has been about the only time in his life he's been stable enough for his hormones to settle into Presentation mode, and...it's been extremely excelerated by the serum."  
"Fuck," Tony repeated, and there was a tight coil of worry in his gut, because late presentations were never pretty, and if the serum was excelerating it...  
"He almost went into sub shock," Clint continued. "We're pumping him full of synthetic dominant hormones but....the doctors think the only thing that will pull him out of it is a bond."  
"Or he'll die," Tony whispered numbly, and Clint nodded, grim. Tony knew all about sub shock during a Presentation, knew it could lower the heartrate so low that a sub, overflowing with depressent hormones, without a dominant to pull them up, could just stop breathing, and their brain simply shut off, killed by their own hormones. Often, the only cure was a bond, and sometimes that didn't even make it, if the couple weren't compatible with each other.  
"You and Steve are a match, did you know that?" Clint said, and Tony looked up sharply. "You changed for him."  
Clint shoved a mirror in front of Tony's face before he could respond, and Tony felt his stomach drop to his toes as he saw the startling blue eyes that were staring back at him, eyes he'd never seen before, and he suddenly understood why his joints ached and why it was so hard to think about anything that wasn't Steve.  
"We already started bonding," he whispered, and his voice sounded hollow to his own ears. "And if we don't finish, he'll die."  
It wasn't unheard of, physically changing to accomadate someone who was compatible, and it was seen as the ultimate kind of devotion. It usually only happened between people who had been together for years, and science had recently proven it only ever happened between people who were genetically compatible.  
The start of a physical change often indicated the start of a bond; and in the state Steve was in, a partial bond would only heighten his hormone production, which, in a normal situation, would be totally fine. Partial bonds wore off within a few hours, but if Tony was understanding the situation correctly (and he was, he always was, his brain was always twelve steps ahead and one step to the right) they didn't have a few hours.  
"I can't let him die," he whispered, looking up at Clint helplessly. His friend nodded, and hopped down off his perch, offering a hand to Tony, which the dom took gratefully, a little unsteady on his feet.  
The archer led him to the quarentine room, where Steve was laid out on the bed, squirming, eyes opening and closing, glazed, skin flushed and chest heaving. There was an IV drip attached to one arm, taped wrapped around his entire forearm to prevent him from accidentally pulling it out in his struggled for relief. He was completely naked, cock looking purple and angry, and when the door opened, the soft, pained mewls he was letting out went straight to Tony's hind brain, and he rushed over to Steve, gently catching his wrists together and stopping him from struggling.  
"Tony," he whined, and that was good, he was at least coherent enough to know who Tony was. The dom leaned down and licked across the swollen bonding gland at the joint of Steve's neck, gasping when he received a reciprocative bite on his own gland.  
"Shh, I got you, I got you," he murmured, pushing Steve back a little. "You're gonna go into sub shock, Steve. The serum is amplifying everything, and...and they said the only way to save you is if you bond."  
"I know," Steve gasped, and he continued to squirm under Tony, panting, but not using his superior strength. He was submitting, and it was gorgeous, and Tony really, really didn't deserve this. "Please, come on, I'm burning up inside, please," Steve whined, and there was a pitch to his voice Tony had never heard before, and he felt his mind slipping away as his hind brain took over.  
"Yeah," he murmured, and he spread Steve's thighs apart, blinking in surprise when, just behind Steve's balls where his perenium should be, he saw a soft, pink opening that couldn't be anything except a vagina, glimmering with wetness in the light.  
"Changed," Steve gasped, arching his hips up. "For you. Please, please, fuck me, fuck me, please," Steve whined, and all rational thought left Tony.  
With a snarl, he grabbed Steve's knees and spread his legs apart, shoving into him with one hard, fierce stroke, making the other man cry out, back arching as he was violated. Tony was almost completely gone, pounding into Steve with a single minded ferocity, the need to claim, breed, fuck overshadowing everything else. Steve cried out on every other thrust, hips moving in tandem as much as possible where he was folded in half.  
Hormones high in the air, it was never going to last long; Tony leaned down, digging his teeth into Steve's bonding gland, pressing until he drew blood, the hot, coppery taste filling his mouth and setting his orgasm off. Vaguely, he felt Steve's teeth in his own bonding gland, felt Steve's cock spurting between them, felt his walls fluttering over his slowly softening cock.   
He and Steve stayed like that for a long while, licking each other's wounds, biting into each other every so often, the bond solidifying around them with each lick. Tony was aware that his muscles were aching, elbows planted on either side of Steve's chest, propping himself up above him, ready to move to defend his sub in a moment from a threat. The dull ache was comforting, in a way, let him know that his body was ready to defend what was his.  
Steve was curled into Tony, soft whines escaping his throat as he begged for attention, and Tony could smell how deep under he was, and the fog cleared enough for him to know Steve needed some serious aftercare. So, as much as he didn't want to, he dragged himself away from Steve for a brief moment to find some supplies, which had neatly and conveniently placed just beside the door of the containment room.  
There were several water bottles, extra blankets, energy bars -all of them in Steve's favorite flavors- moist towelettes, lube and condoms, and, at the bottome of the pile, a simple leash and collar. Tony swallowed at the sight of it, hesitating, but a frantic whine from Steve had him rushing back to the bed, supplies in hand.   
He wiped Steve down, cleaning the sweat off his body with firm, even strokes, watching the super soldier sigh and arch into each touch. He moved where directed easily, opened his mouth to be hand fed small bites of the energy bars, drank a whole bottle of water when Tony prompted him, and allowed Tony to check the newest part of his anatomy for any tearing.  
Satisfied, and with Steve bundled in one of the extra blankets, Tony pulled out the leash and collar. He knew that a majority of submissives liked to be collared and leashed after a scene, wallowing in their headspace with a physical reminder that there was someone there, watching over them and protecting them. Steve, though, hadn't been a submissive for long; he didn't know what he liked, yet, Tony thought. Guilt flooded his system as he realized he had taken away all of Steve's choice, all his ability to experiment with other dom's, but he shoved it away; he could wallow later, right now Steve needed to be cared for, especially with the risk of sub drop so high.  
"Do you want this?" he asked, holding up the leash and collar for Steve to see. His eyes, dilated so wide there was barely a sliver of blue visible, blinked slowly at the items in Tony's hand, his face taking on an expression of consideration. After a long moment, where Tony feared he wouldn't respond at all, Steve nodded, arching his neck up to allow access.  
A thrill of possessiveness went through Tony as he gently fastened the collar around Steve's throat, clipping the leash to it and giving it a perfunctory tug to ensure it wasn't going to come loose. Steve closed his eyes and made a soft, satisfied sound, settling down and closing his eyes. Tony swallowed, once, possessive pride and guilt warring in his mind, and settled behind the submissive, wrapping his arms around him and listening to Steve's quiet breaths as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
